Shelter From the Dark
by unicorn-skydancer08
Summary: Sometimes even kings need someone to comfort them, and protect them.


**SHELTER FROM THE DARK  
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_Writing about Tumnus and Edmund is as fun and satisfying as writing about Tumnus and Lucy, or anyone else. Like I said before, there just aren't enough stories about the two to go around. _

_After this, I plan to write another story, then another, and with luck, another!  
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_**Characters © C.S. Lewis and Disney/Walden Media**

**Story © unicorn-skydancer08**

_**All rights reserved. **_

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"Mr. Tumnus?" Edmund's timid voice cut through the soft darkness, rousing Tumnus from his peaceful sleep. "Mr. Tumnus, are you awake?"

Like a butterfly beating its wings, Tumnus's eyes flitted open, and it took the faun a moment to readjust to his surroundings. With a faint yawn, he slowly rolled onto his back, placing both hands over his face and kneading his lids. When he removed his hands and turned his head to the other side, he was somewhat surprised to discover King Edmund the Just standing in the open doorway of his bedchamber, watching him. As it was still quite late, and as Edmund had just been out of bed, his appearance was considerably disheveled.

Yet the boy looked wide-awake.

Realizing something must not be right with his young king, Tumnus didn't hesitate to sit up, causing his coverlet to slip from his shoulders and fall to rest in his lap.

"Edmund?" the faun said solicitously. "What is it? What are you doing up, at this hour? Are—are you all right?"

"I couldn't sleep, Mr. Tumnus." Edmund bowed his head, looking slightly ashamed of himself. "And…I was lonely, and felt I could use a little company. I'm sorry to disturb you…"

"Oh, no," Tumnus gently cut him off. "No, really, it's quite all right. Come in, come sit with me, and talk to me."

So Edmund stepped quietly into the chamber, wrapping his lanky arms around himself and shivering from the draft. "I'm cold."

He'd never imagined it could get this cold in Cair Paravel at night, especially when spring had ended and it was supposed to be summer already.

"Here," Tumnus offered, sliding to one side of the bed and lifting the coverlet, "get under here, with me. You will be much warmer this way."

Edmund accepted the invitation with thanks. Once he was in a comfortable position on the feather-soft mattress, Tumnus spread the thick coverlet over him, and Edmund huddled a little closer to his companion, for additional warmth and comfort. In exchange, Tumnus wrapped an amiable arm around the boy's shoulders, giving him a squeeze. He slowly settled back against the mountain of pillows, allowing Edmund to lean against him. Edmund's head fell to rest against Tumnus's bare, unadorned shoulder, so that Tumnus felt the light tickle of the boy's hair.

With his arm still enveloping Edmund, his fingers toying idly with Edmund's raven locks, Tumnus repeated his question from before a second time. "You all right?"

Edmund only made a slight inclination of his head in reply, somewhere between a nod yes and a shake no. Physically, he was well enough off. But emotionally…

"I'm sorry, Mr. Tumnus," the young king said again. "I know it's late, that you're tired and all. But I…" He faltered. "I just couldn't stay in my own room. I know it sounds stupid, but my room was too big, too quiet, too empty. My bed was too soft. I got terribly lonely. I felt I needed to be with someone tonight. I didn't want to wake up Lucy or Susan, and I certainly couldn't go to Peter. I didn't want them to think I was being a baby about all this." Peering up slowly into Tumnus's gentle eyes, the boy added in a whisper, "So, I came to you."

"That's all right," Tumnus reassured him. "I am glad you came to me, Edmund." Indeed, it touched the faun's heart that Edmund sought comfort from him, of all people.

It especially moved Tumnus to know that Edmund would confide in him in particular, considering what the two had gone through not so long ago, with the White Witch and all. Every now and again, Tumnus still had nightmares of his encounter with the Secret Police, of his time in his frozen hell, of the Witch turning him to stone, and he often awoke with a gasp to find himself entangled in his sheets, his skin and fur drenched in cold sweat. It wouldn't surprise the faun in the least if Edmund suffered from the same ghastly hallucinations.

Ironically, it was Edmund's fault (to some degree) that they'd wound up in the Ice Dungeon in the first place.

That, of course, was all a thing of the past now. Both Tumnus and Edmund, mercifully, made it out alive, for which Tumnus thanked Aslan. All was forgiven, if not totally forgotten.

Still, Edmund was, understandably, a bit wary around Tumnus these days. Sometimes he had trouble looking the faun fully in the face, and he often tripped over his tongue when trying to speak to him. Once, when Tumnus attempted to talk to Edmund himself, though he spoke quite gently, Edmund unthinkingly turned his back on him and ran out of the room, much to Tumnus's sorrow and dismay. Despite what Edmund did to him, Tumnus knew he was hardly any better off himself. In some ways, the faun felt he'd deserved what he'd gotten with the Witch.

Besides, Aslan himself had willingly forgiven Tumnus, for what _he _had done wrong. Therefore, how could Tumnus not do the same for Edmund?

If someone like the Great Lion could show mercy to someone as low and pitiful as the faun, who was the faun to judge another, to bear ill will against them?

Thus, Tumnus was all the more grateful and humbled to have Edmund here at his side. He was willing to take any chance he could to prove to Edmund that they could actually be friends.

"You know you can always come to me, for anything," the faun continued. "I'm always here for you, when you need me."

Hearing the faun talk this way to him, in such a kindly manner, brought a lump to Edmund's throat. His eyes began to prickle, and he resolutely blinked them, fighting to keep the tears at bay. Tumnus continued to fondle the boy's hair tenderly; presently, he asked him, "Are you sure everything's all right? May I ask what it is that's truly troubling you?"

It was as if he could read Edmund's mind. Edmund knew it would do no good to even try to hide it. "Everyone expects so much from me," the boy blurted. "They expect me—of all people!—to be their king, their ruler. They depend on me to protect them, defend them, solve their problems, advise them, direct them…the list goes on forever! I don't know if I can do this, Mr. Tumnus. It all seems too much for me to bear, too big a responsibility for me to hold. Peter and my sisters may be able to handle this just fine, but I doubt I will, now…or ever."

"Aslan wouldn't have chosen you as one of the Two Kings if he didn't think you were capable," Tumnus said mildly.

"But why me? I'm nobody special. I am no king, no person of royal lineage. I'm just a boy, a plain, ordinary kid from Finchley—and a bad one, at that. What use am I to Aslan? What need does Narnia have of me?" His eyes and throat burned more fiercely, and his voice cracked noticeably as he asked again, "Why _me?_ I was a _traitor_, for pity's sake!"

"There, now," said Tumnus, trying to calm him down, "that's all in the past, Edmund. The Witch is gone. We are alive, and free. You've received Aslan's grace…as have I. What else matters?"

"Sometimes…" Edmund faltered once more, drawing in a shaky gulp of breath. "Sometimes I can't help thinking this is all a joke, Mr. Tumnus."

"A joke?" Tumnus's ears pricked up at the word. He drew back slightly from Edmund, just enough to give him an incredulous look. "How can you say that?"

Edmund dropped his face into his hands. "What if this is all a set-up?" the boy agonized. "What if this is just something to taunt me, make me a laughingstock? I made a terrible mess of things once; maybe this is a test to see if I'll mess everything up again." He struggled to keep back a sob that threatened to burst from his throat.

"Oh, Edmund, don't say that!" Tumnus scolded him gently. "Don't even _think _it! You know perfectly well that's not the case. Aslan would never joke about a thing like this!"

"N-no," said Edmund weakly, fighting to get hold of himself. "I know Aslan wouldn't…but the rest of Narnia might."

"Oh, Edmund," Tumnus said again, now feeling a deep sense of hurt. "Surely you know us better than that. Surely you have been with us long enough to know we're not that sort of people."

At this, Edmund felt a sharp pang of guilt. Tumnus was right; everyone around here had been very good to him thus far. Edmund's head was still attached to his shoulders, and everyone showed him the same respect they showed Lucy, Susan, even Peter. Nevertheless, there was some part of Edmund that couldn't help questioning the sincerity of it all.

"I'm sorry, Mr. Tumnus," the young monarch said at length, daring to lift his face to the faun's once more. "I-I didn't mean it the way it sounded."

He shook his head ruefully. "I just…I just don't see how you all can be so trusting, so accepting of me, after what I'd done to you."

"All of us have committed some wrong at some point in our lives, Edmund," said Tumnus solemnly. "All of us are sinful before Aslan. I am no different. I've done terrible things throughout my own life, things for which I could have killed myself." An evocative gleam now shone in the faun's eyes, and he spoke more softly and tenderly. "But Aslan has shown mercy to me, has given me a chance to start over again. That's the wonderful thing about the Lion. Despite the things we say and do, despite our pathetic state, Aslan loves us anyway. He bears us up when we don't have the strength to make it ourselves, and he is quick to forgive our sins and misdeeds. But how can we expect Aslan to forgive us, if we refuse to forgive each other?"

Edmund felt these wise words wash through him, like water, enveloping his very heart.

The boy could see perfectly well what the faun was getting at, and it was as if a bright flame had been lit within him. He felt filled with light…and warmth.

"We must also be willing to forgive ourselves," Tumnus continued, using his thumb to brush away a tear that had begun to trickle down Edmund's face. "When our hearts have truly changed, what does it matter what we once were before? We learn from our mistakes, Edmund. Our pain shapes us, our suffering forges us, and we become stronger, wiser, and overall, better people. What you've been through has made you into a better person…and through that, you can be a better king."

That last bit was what truly struck home. Edmund felt his eyes overflow, and he could hardly speak due to the fist-sized lump that wedged in his throat.

This was the highest praise he could have received from Tumnus, or from anybody.

Unlike Tumnus, Edmund had never been very good with words, and words now failed the boy completely for expressing the way he felt, just how much all of this meant to him.

Tumnus seemed to understand, anyway, for he smiled down at Edmund—a warm, brotherly smile—and gently drew him closer, wrapping him entirely in his arms. Edmund returned the embrace fiercely; Tumnus could feel his companion's tears running steadily down his chest, but he held the boy all the tighter, burying his face in Edmund's raven hair and kissing him.

They remained like that for a long time, until Edmund's tears ran dry, and his shaky breathing eased off.

When at last they let each other go, Tumnus threaded his fingers lightly through Edmund's hair, which had begun to lengthen considerably. "You could use a bit of a trim," the faun remarked.

Edmund smirked. "You're one to talk," he muttered, knowing that hair covered no less than two-thirds of Tumnus's body.

Tumnus chuckled heartily. But he was serious when he asked Edmund, "Do you think you'll be able to sleep all right, now?"

As if on cue, a deep yawn escaped Edmund, and he found himself rubbing at his eyelids, which were starting to droop involuntarily. Tumnus decided to take that as a yes.

"Get some sleep, then," the faun said benevolently. "We'll talk more in the morning."

But rather than get up and make way for his own room, Edmund hesitated.

"Mr. Tumnus?"

"Hmm?"

"Would it…would it be all right, if I stayed with you?" Edmund asked feebly. "Just for tonight?"

He felt himself blush furiously at his own question, and was silently thankful that it was too dark for Tumnus to see the burning redness of his face.

Tumnus, however, smiled that endearing smile once again, and answered very kindly, "Of course."


End file.
